


We All Fell Down

by jesseofthenorth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Dyspraxia, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-10
Updated: 2011-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesseofthenorth/pseuds/jesseofthenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries so hard to say what's wrong, tries to be better. He tries until he can't anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We All Fell Down

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: So I was reading prompts over at "ohsam"s latest Fic Challenge Prompting Post over at LJ and I was bitten by a Rabid Plot Bunny (TM). I never really got what that meant until I started writing this. It meets the original prompt almost not at all, fails to adhere to the word count no matter what I try to make it do, and did not turn out the way I planned AT ALL. So instead of claiming the prompt I'll just post this here and let someone else do a better job of filling the OPs request.  
> That being said? I really like the way it turned out.
> 
> Author's Note part two: If you are expecting the John in this story to be either horrible or perfect you are in the wrong place. The only John I can ever seem to write is deeply flawed and loves his children just as deeply. If this is not the John Winchester you want to read please don't bother complaining, instead kindly find something else to read.

On his 16th birthday Sam Winchester gets thrown head first into a tombstone. He is out for less than 2 minutes but when he wakes up again everything is different. The head-ache lasts for days but his pupils are fine and he barely has a bump. John tells Sam to 'suck it up' when he decides the boy isn't really hurt.

“Got your bell wrung good Sammy!” he says with something like pride.

***

  
At first Sam tries to convince his Dad that something is "not right". Sam tries to explain to his father that he's not 'dragging his feet' or 'being a pain in the ass'.

He keeps trying. But the simplest things confound him. Give him a job to do and he knows the first thing, he knows the last thing, but the way to get from one to the other eludes him like it is written in a language he doesn't read.

He gets lost doing chores. Forgets to put soap in the dish water, picks up the laundry and loses track of where it goes. Breaks down a pistol for cleaning but can't put it back together.

He trips over things that aren’t there. He walks into door jams because they all seemed to have moved three inches to the left and he can never tell. It takes him five minutes to put a knife back in a sheath after he sharpens it.

It takes him hours to do his home-work and it gets sent back with words like 'illegible' written across his hours of painstaking labor, in harsh red ink. It takes weeks but eventually Sam gives up on that too.

He remembers to shower but forgets to wash his hair. He brushes his teeth without toothpaste until his teeth start to yellow. He looks at the stick of deodorant and can't figure it out, reading the label doesn't help so he puts it back unused.

Sounds over-whelm him but Dad and Dean don't notice because it's just Sam complaining about their music again. He can't figure out how to explain what the sounds do to his head, how it makes everything syrupy and hard to navigate.

Dad only bitches at him; never listens when Sam tries to stumble his way through an explanation.

After a while Sam stops trying, just puts his head down and mumbles "Yessir" because his tongue trips over the words the same way his feet trip over nothing.

In a fit of frustration and anger his father yells “What the hell is wrong with you?” He is so fed up with Sam's bull-shit.

“I don't know.” Sam whispers the tears in his lowered eyes leaking into his voice. It is the whisper that they finally hear.

“Sam?” Dean puts his hand on his brothers neck and squeezes. It is a kind of a question on it's own 'What can I do to help?' Dean asks in the language they only speak with each other. The language without words, for brothers.

“I don't know!” Sam tells him voice harsh and raw with weeks of desperation and fear.

“It's OK Sammy. We'll figure it out.” Dean tells him and for now Sam chooses to believe him because the alternative is too terrifying to contemplate. He leans his head against his brothers strong shoulder and lets Dean take some of the weight.

***

  
John is at a loss. Sam can see _that_. He tries to be patient, he tries to understand, but the hunt distracts him from the things he doesn't know how to deal with. Sam can see his fathers desperation to be anywhere but here. Sam knows exactly how that feels.

Sam doesn't really mind when his father says “Dean watch out for your brother “ and leaves to hunt without them.

Dean says nothing only catches the Impala's keys when John tosses them to him.

Sam tells his father “Be safe, Dad” as the man walks out he door.

Dean says nothing only turns toward his brother before the door closes.

***

  
Dean takes them to the library, the next day, and finds the computers.

“Okay Sammy show me how this 'Google' thing works.” he says and goes looking for answers.

It takes him days but eventually he finds a word. 3 months ago Sam would would have had the answers in a few hours now it takes him hours to learn to spell it: Dyspraxia.

The word and the answers it brings make Dean want to throw up. He would do _anything_ to make it better but all he _can_ do is figure out how to cope. Everything about this makes Dean angry. Angry at their father for leaving. Angry at the universe for the cruelty it has dealt his brother. Anger at himself for not understanding sooner.

“It's OK Dean” Sam says. “ We'll figure it out.” Dean shouldn't feel bad for finding answers for him.

***

  
Dad doesn't come back before the rent is due. He calls instead “I am going to be longer than I thought”  
Dean is so angry he cannot listen so Sam does it instead. “You boys should go to Bobby's.”

“Okay Dad.” Sam says eager to do something right for a change.

“You take care of each other Sam.”

“We will Dad. Love you” Sam tells him as if it was a thing they say every day. Sam cannot see the tears these words bring to his fathers eyes.

***

Bobby does not hesitate for a second when he opens the door to the Winchester boys.

“Come on in. Your Daddy called yesterday.” he is not surprised to see how angry these words make Dean. He _is_ surprised by the hug he gets from Sam. “Come on then, put your stuff in your room.” he says gruffly, with a cough to cover up the lump in his throat.

***

  
“What ever is different about Sam it ain’t all bad.” he tells Dean later that night. Sam sleeps while they take a bottle of Jack down by a couple of notches.

Dean nods. It’s true. Sam is … he’s sweeter now, like when he was little. The thought scares the shit out of Dean, the, life they live being what it is.

“ I know that Bobby. I just...” he thinks about he wants to say very carefully. “ I don't know what to do! How do I help him? How do I keep him safe now? I failed-”

“You stop right there boy!” his father says harshly from the doorway behind him. “ It wasn't you that failed.”

“What are you doing here?” Dean demands as if his father needs to explain himself. John concedes, in his own head at least, that he probably does.

“ Same as you I guess.” John says, looking his oldest boy in the eye for the first time in weeks. “ Figuring out what we're gonna do now.” He finishes the amber liquid in the bottom of his son's glass and pushes the bottle toward Bobby. “Get some sleep, son. We'll figure it out tomorrow.”

***

  
John and Bobby are drinking coffee at the kitchen table when a bleary eyed Sam literally stumbles in the next morning. The over-joyed smile on his youngest son's face tells John Winchester that he is exactly where he needs to be this morning. Whatever comes after, what ever they do they will be stronger of they do it together.


End file.
